You're Never Alone
by MarvelousTune
Summary: This is the story of a boy and a girl. Just two more people living on the Ark. Although they have never met in person, they share a connection stronger than anything this society has ever known. They don't know why it happened to them, but it did, and now they must learn to live with it. You'd be surprised how easy it is to get to know someone from a jail cell... Or maybe not.
1. In the Beginning

_Author's Note: Hello there! I just have a few disclaimers before we begin: This is actually my first time writing a fanfic for The 100, so please be gentle with me. In fact, it's actually my first time writing anything not related to Sherlock or Doctor Who! I just finished watching the first season of this show yesterday, but I got the idea for this AU-ish fic, and I simply had to start writing it! I got the idea from a movie called In Your Eyes (If you haven't seen it I highly recommend it. It's on Netflix). The film is basically about these two people who live on opposite sides of the country, but can somehow hear each other and see what the other sees. (Netflix description pretty much says: Two unconnected people in different parts of the country forge a telepathic bond that leads to a metaphysical romance.) It's really cool and super sweet. So yeah! That's what's up with that. :) I'd like to apologize for any major errors, and let you all know that I don't own any of these characters. I hope you enjoy it!_

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Clarke Griffin was not afraid of the dark, and she did not believe that there were monsters in her closet or under her bed. The ghost stories her friend Wells told her never stopped her from getting a goodnight's rest, but she did have one recurring nightmare that never failed to send shivers up and down her spine. Some nights Clarke would close her eyes, fall asleep, and reopen them in another room on the Ark. She did not know where this dream room was, but it definitely was not her own.

The scariest thing about the dream was that it all felt so real. No other dream was so vivid. In this other world, she could feel the cold, filtered air surrounding her and hear the other people in the dream speaking as clear as a bell. Usually there was a woman, a young boy, and a little girl in the room. Clarke believed they were a family, because the woman and the girl shared the same dark hair and facial structure. (This made it obvious that it had to be a dream, because the Ark had a strict one child per family rule. A brother and sister were not possible anymore.) She never got to see the boy for some reason, but she could hear his voice. In fact, his voice was the only comforting thing about whatever scene played out in her head that particular night.

Strangely enough something was always a bit different about the dream each time she had it, but the boy's voice remained a constant. In the beginning, the woman, the mother was around more, but as Clarke grew up she saw her less and less. The only other major change over time was that as Clarke grew older, so did the girl and boy in her dream. She could tell by the boy's voice that he was aging; even constants have to evolve a little over time. Clarke had the advantage of seeing the girl, though, and she appeared to be around her own age if not a bit younger.

Perhaps that had been why it was so terrifying when the girl was forced to sleep beneath the floor boards every night. She was never shoved or physically abused, but there were usually stern words and tears. Clarke could tell she was deeply loved by her family, but it was obvious the girl did not want to go. Somehow she knew that the boy did not want to send her down there either. Something about the idea of being trapped in a small, dark area for hours at a time made her anxious. The worst dreams were when the room was dark, and she was on her back staring at the ceiling for some reason, and she could hear the girl's soft crying from beneath the floor across the room.

For some reason it was necessary.

For some reason Clarke was always unable to sleep after these nightmares.

It was not until something even more real and terrifying happened that the dreams stopped.

When she found out the Ark was dying, when her best friend betrayed her, when her father was floated, when she had to warn the rest of the Ark on her own.

That's when she stopped letting some girl under the floor boards give her the heebie-jeebies. At least that's why she thought the dreams ended.

Little did she know that whenever she got those dreams, a boy on the other side of the Ark would feel a strange presence in the back of his mind. He did not know why, but Bellamy Blake drew courage from the peculiar feeling of someone seeing his _family's_ struggle. When he sensed the other presence, he did not feel so alone anymore. A part of him, although he knew it was silly, thought it was his father watching over them. All he knew about his father was what his mother Aurora had told him: he was long dead, but he was a good man, and he would have loved him very much.

"And Octavia?" Little Bellamy had asked. His mother paused for a moment before stretching her lips into a small smile.

"And your sister." She replied, smoothed back his curly mess of hair, and returned to work mending a tear in Octavia's pants leg.

For young Bellamy that was enough. But as time passed, not so much. The mysterious presence he had relied on since he was a child faded over the years, and by the time he was a grown man it was practically forgotten. All he really had was his sister and mother…

Well, he had his sister. She was his responsibility, after all.

Who needs to feel seen anyway? That lonely feeling will dull into numbness eventually.

Who needs a constant to hold onto in this crazy world of change anyway? Save the universe some energy, it'll only be ripped away eventually.

Bellamy had people to take care of, and so did Clarke. They were both much too busy for warm, fuzzy feelings and imaginary families.

However, when dreams are ignored in the darkness of night, sometimes instead of fading into the cobwebs they begin to intrude on the daylight.

* * *

 _Thanks so much for reading. I really hope you enjoyed it. I realize there isn't much explanation of what's going on here yet or that much action either, but never fear there is more to come! They might not know each other exists right now, but gosh darn it they will soon. :) Until next time xoxox_


	2. The Collision

_Author's Note: Hello again! Thank you so much for all of the follows, favorites, and reviews! They mean so much to me. I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Now this chapter is where we really jump into the whole telepathic bond thing. It might be a bit confusing, but it's their first time discovering that they have it so it is bound to be a bit chaotic. I'm still trying to figure out the best way to format it. I am really excited about this. I'd like to apologize for any major errors, and thank you all for reading. I do not own anything from The 100. I hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

The first time they broke through to each other was an accident.

Clarke was leaning back in her desk chair, eyeing the new art utensils that were sitting in front of her. It was clear that Wells was now resulting to childish tricks to try and convince her to forgive him. Her mother must have let him in while she was out. Did he really think that stealing colored pens and pencils for her would soften the blow of his betrayal? Did he really still believe that he could be forgiven at all?

Still it seemed like a shame to let all of the supplies go to waste, even if she could not forgive the giver of the gifts. Clarke sighed as she allowed her fingers to trace the corners of the pencil box. She had been craving new materials for weeks now, and these looked absolutely perfect. Her hands were twitching to break in the new pencils. She shouldn't, but…

Before she knew it Clarke had out a piece of paper, and the outline of a face was forming beneath her hand. When she drew it was like she was sucked away into another universe. Somehow all of her focus could be fixed on perfecting her picture, and the rest of the world around her melted away. The only thing worrying her for the moment was that she got his smile right. The only thing she felt betrayed by was her inability to make his eyes light up the way they used to when he was talking about his work.

Bellamy was making his usual rounds with an older guard when he was asked to go get some paperwork from one of the office spaces. He took his orders without complaining and went on his way to retrieve the needed items. During his time as a cadet he had to do this quite often, so he was used to it. As he approached the office, Bellamy looked down to get the keycard to unlock the door from his pocket. Once he had the card out, his hand stretched forward to swipe the card. All of the sudden his vision began to blur. Where there had originally been a card reader, there was now just a bare wall. He shut his eyes tightly and reopened them, figuring it was only his imagination, an eyelash, or even a piece of dust. This technique proved effective and allowed him to continue on his way. In the back of his mind, however, the strange image kept reappearing. Below the blank wall, a woman's hands, although they were sometimes blurred together and replaced with his own, were fast at work, sketching the portrait of a man that looked familiar and foreign to him all at the same time.

 _You need to stop daydreaming and pay attention, Bellamy._ He thought as he entered the office. _God knows Mom worked hard enough to get you to this point. (If what she did could even be considered work...) Now it's your job to stay here and move forward._

Suddenly the picture was ripped away from his thoughts, and for a moment he was pleased with himself. Now he could give work his full attention. However, after he entered the office a strange feeling crept over him as he realized that it was not his pushing the thoughts away that made the drawing disappear. He could still see the flat top of a desk where the picture sat just moments ago. The confusion this drastic change caused forced the image to the forefront of his mind again, pushed reality to the back, and made him stop dead in his tracks.

Clarke heard the front door open and glanced behind her at the doorway. Without waiting another second Clarke spun back around, however, when she looked down to grab her paper, she saw her hand reaching to unlock a door. Her brows furrowed as she paused for a moment. The images of the two places danced together, making it nearly impossible for her to tell which was real and which was a figment of her imagination. Carefully, she proceeded to reach forward until her fingers met the desk she was searching for. This literal grasp on reality pulled her out of whatever daze she had fallen into, and she shoved the picture she had been drawing of her father into one of the desk drawers. She did not have the time to hide it properly, but she managed to toss it under some other notebooks. Clarke knew that seeing the picture would upset her mother, so she decided it was best just not to let her see it.

After disposing of her piece of art, Clarke turned around, expecting to find her mother walking into the room at any minute, however, when the door opened several armed guards dressed in black rushed into the room followed by a few members of the Council. All thoughts of her strange shift in vision were long gone. Clarke was too busy trying to plan her escape to take it into much consideration. Her body tensed as she stood up and pushed the chair away from her. She did not know where she was going to run to, but she turned to flee deeper into her family's home. Unfortunately, a guard reached her before she could make a dash for the doorway.

Bellamy's muscles tightened as he felt someone's hands twist around his biceps, trying to keep him in place. He looked around frantically and saw no one holding him back, but as he blinked his surroundings changed once again. He could see the desk where someone had been sketching the man sitting to his right. There were guards standing in front of him now, and two at his sides. He managed to hear the words "You are under arrest" before he blinked again and could faintly see that he was still physically in the office.

"What the hell?" He demanded as if the guards could hear him. He knew they weren't real. They couldn't be real. Bellamy pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. The only explanation he could think of was that he was sick, and his fever was causing him to hallucinate. It was the only conclusion that made sense.

Clarke froze when she heard a familiar voice curse. Even though it had been years since her last dream of him, she would know that voice anywhere.

"What did you say?" She asked aloud, her voice shaking a bit.

Bellamy's eyes widened.

"I said, Clarke Griffin you are under arrest for treason." An annoyed guard repeated sternly. Clarke was surprised to find that the guard's voice was not that of the boy in her dreams. Someone had said, "What the hell?" She heard it as clearly as she heard her own voice. There was no way she had imagined it. However, as the guard's words sunk in Clarke began to thrash around. She yelled for them to let her go, but no one paid her any attention. She yelled for her mother, but these pleas fell on deaf ears. Her mind was sent back to the day they came for her father, and tears began to form in her eyes despite her best efforts to remain strong. As they dragged her towards the door she found herself yelling about the rights of the people. A guard reminded her that she had the right to remain silent, but she refused to stop fighting them.

"No, no, no…" She muttered until it became as natural as breathing.

 _It's not over. It can't be over. I haven't accomplished anything. I haven't warned anybody._ The desperate words ran through her mind over and over again and the fear of failing gave her strength. She had promised her father that she would help him whether he wanted her to or not, and she had to do everything in her power to keep that promise.

Because of he refusal to cooperate, the guards restraining her arms eventually had to force her against the wall nearest the door and lock handcuffs around her wrists. When she felt the cool metal circling her wrists, she knew it was over. There was nothing she could do now.

Bellamy's head was reeling as he heard a girl's voice yelling. He told himself that she had been speaking to someone else in the room when she asked what he said. He told himself that it was not even remotely possible that her question as directed to him. None of that was real.

 _What the hell is happening to me?_ He wondered again, his heart throbbing beneath his skin. His face found its way into his palms as he tried to rub away what he had just seen, heard, and felt.

Suddenly, he felt himself being shoved into the wall. The ghost guards trying to arrest the imaginary person in his head were holding him there. The thought that the guard he was shadowing could come to see what the problem was at any moment crossed his mind as he stood with his cheek pressed against the wall. His breathing was ragged as his vision crossed back into the other room, and his hand blindly began searching the wall for a keypad. Whatever was going on, he did not want the guard to see him acting like this. He was still only a cadet, and he needed this man's approval. With any luck, he could lock the door and have the remaining bits of his sanity crumble in private.

After a moment of furious hunting, Bellamy could feel the buttons and screen of the keypad beneath his fingers. Without hesitation (He did not have the luxury of being cautious) he typed in the lock code the best he could and breathed a sigh of relief. Now the only issue was that his eyes were seeing a mixture of reality and someplace completely imaginary. According to his senses, he was not alone in an office. He was being arrested in someone's home. Or maybe he was doing both. Bellamy took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Stop it. Stop this." He muttered to himself, rubbing his temples as he did. He found that if he concentrated, he could manage to pull himself back into reality. Slowly he discovered that he could block a majority of it out, and as quickly as this strange happening had started, it ended. The last thing he saw was the guards leading him and his imaginary person out into the hallway.

As Clarke was led away by the guards, she sighed and closed her eyes, sending up a little prayer to whoever might be there to listen. When she reopened them she could have sworn she was inside an office room, staring at a keypad. Clarke quickly shook her head, forcing herself back into the real world, and just kept walking. It did not matter if she was going crazy now. She'd be locked in a cell anyway. What difference did it make if it was padded?

* * *

 _Ooh, we got a little bit of interaction! Next chapter there will hopefully be a lot more, because they need to start to fully understand what is going on and figure out how to handle it. :) Thank you so much for reading my story. I hope you are enjoying it, and I'd love to hear from you in the reviews. Until next time! xoxox_


	3. Really Real

_Author's Note: Hello there! I'm really sorry that I haven't updated this fic in a while. I went to the beach for two weeks, and I was kind of experiencing some writer's block. Thank you so much to everyone who has favorited, followed, and reviewed. I love hearing from you guys! This chapter isn't as long or well edited as I'd like it to be, but I felt like I needed to get it out now before I murdered it (or myself! Haha). I apologize for any major errors. I'm editing some of this at two in the morning because I'm crazy. Thanks for reading!_

* * *

"You don't feel warm to me." Aurora reported as she rested her hand against Bellamy's forehead. He had not told his mother everything about the incident earlier, but she did know that he felt sick and his head was foggy. That was all she had time to hear, and that was all she needed to know. It was true for the most part. When he thought about what happened he felt like throwing up, and foggy was the only word he could come up with to describe how his vision had sloshed back and forth between worlds like water overflowing in a bowl.

Bellamy opened his mouth to say something, but Aurora leaned forward to press her lips to his temple before he could get a word out.

"Mom…" He groaned and awkwardly tried to lean away from her lips. Octavia, who was sitting across from him at the table, released a giggle.

"What? You become a member of the guard, and now you're too grown up for your mother to kiss you?" Aurora teased. Bellamy did not laugh or smile. He only shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His mother watched him for a moment, waiting for a response, but when there was not one her smile drifted away. "Everyone knows that the lips are more accurate, anyway. It's a little trick that all moms know." She said, turning her head to redirect her words to Octavia. As always, she smoothed back Bellamy's dark hair with her hand and gave him a small pat on the shoulder. "Even though it doesn't seem like you have a fever, I want you to go get checked out tomorrow, okay? I don't need you being sick, or worse, quarantined. You know we need the points."

Bellamy nodded with a halfhearted grin, "Yes, ma'am. I know."

"Good boy, Bellamy." She abandoned her seat at the table and started getting ready to leave. Aurora said she had a "late shift" tonight. When she was not looking, Bellamy was unable contain the scowl hardening his face any longer. Octavia looked up from the paper she was doodling on and offered him a reassuring smile. He noticed that the smile did not reach her eyes, and it was not really hard to figure out why. Octavia had a big heart, and she probably felt guilty that the two of them had to work so hard to keep her safe.

 _My sister, my responsibility._ He thought as he sucked in a breath and forced a smile onto his face. Slowly Bellamy saw Octavia lighten up.

Before their mother left, she warned him not to get too close to Octavia just in case and told them that they both needed to make sure they cleaned their hands. If Octavia got sick, she had no idea what _they_ would do.

The next morning Bellamy found himself waiting to meet with one of the Ark's several doctors. He had only been waiting for a few minutes, but, to be honest, he already felt gypped. Apparently the Chief Medical Officer was taking a day off for personal reasons, and with problems like his, Bellamy thought he probably needed the best the ship could offer. He snorted as he imagined the Chief Medical Officer examining _him_. Sure, he was a cadet now but that didn't make him a prince. You had to be someone important or dying of a strange disease to see that woman. Maybe he would get in for the latter.

He took a seat in one of the chairs in the waiting area and tried to think through what he was going to tell the doctor. There was no way he could start out with the fact that there was a girl in his head, rambling off some civil rights crap as she was dragged away by the members of the Guard that also live inside his head. He would sound like a complete lunatic, and the doctor would probably send him away, thinking Bellamy was just some jerk hoping to get off duty for a couple days.

After coming to the conclusion that he was just going to have to wing it, Bellamy leaned his head back against the wall and allowed his eyes to close. He had not slept very well the night before (who could when you knew that you were losing your mind?), so he felt like he deserved to give his eyelids a little break. Besides, there were actually quite a few people there today, so it could take a while. The doctor would call his name when he or she was ready for him.

The murmur of conversation coming from the people sitting and standing around him did not bother him. In fact, he found the white noise somewhat comforting. It was no different than the constant sounds of the ship's different bits and pieces doing crap to keep everyone alive. However, right before he could drift off into an almost peaceful nap another noise disturbed the soft buzz surrounding him. Someone near him was humming obnoxiously as if she were the only person in the world. Bellamy's eyelids tightened over his eyes as he tried to ignore the sound, but it only made him more irritated. Couldn't he catch a break?

"Could you cut that out?" Bellamy snapped without opening his eyes. He was not going to give the hummer the satisfaction of breaking his relaxed countenance.

"Sorry." The girl replied in a soft, casual tone.

The sound of her voice almost made Bellamy jump out of seat. He slowly peeled his eyes open and looked to his left. The chair was empty. When he looked to his right he found a large man staring at him with tired, concerned eyes. The nausea from last night was back.

"Stop it." He muttered to himself and leaned forward, shoving his face into his palms. How could she sound so damn calm when he was completely freaking out? It did not make sense. She was a figment of his imagination, a piece of him, and yet she had the ability to keep her cool like talking to oneself was the most normal thing in the world. "Stop it, stop it, stop it." Bellamy repeated through clenched teeth. It had worked last time.

He was too busy commanding the voices in his head to disappear to notice when one of the doctors strolled into the waiting area and called someone's name. The man sitting beside him said something, but Bellamy did not hear it. The stranger reached over and tapped him on the shoulder with one of his large, callused fingers, causing Bellamy's head to whip up in his direction. He quickly threw on his best "I'm not crazy, trust me" face, but it came out a bit wonky with his hair standing up and his eyes opened a bit too wide to be considered calm.

"I asked if you wanted to go ahead of me." The man said again as his brows knitted together. Bellamy was surprised this guy would let him go ahead of him. He looked like a hardworking man, one who probably had a very tight schedule. If he did not get to see the doctor today he might not get another chance for a couple months.

 _I must look pretty bad off._ He thought. Bellamy glanced from the man beside him to the doctor waiting not-so-patiently for someone to follow him back to the examining room before shaking his head.

Clarke was taken from her dreary cell as she followed Bellamy's gaze. Something caught in her throat when she realized where he was.

"Is that the med bay?" Clarke asked.

"Yes." Bellamy heard himself say.

"Well, come on then." The doctor said, finally stepping in. "We have a lot of people waiting out here, son."

Only then did it occur to Bellamy that they did not know who he was talking to, and it sounded like he was agreeing to the man's offer. "Sorry, no. I mean. I'm alright, man. You go ahead." He stammered still seeming very not "alright".

"Is-is my mom there?" Clarke wondered aloud in Bellamy's ear.

The man did not offer a second time and left with the doctor.

"No," Bellamy explained to himself, "Mom is working. You know that."

Clarke shook her head, "Not your mom... My-my mom." Thoughts of her parents began to flood her mind, and Clarke wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to block out the home sickness.

Before he could react another doctor came out and called Bellamy's name. Although his head became silent for a moment, he could still feel her presence in the back of his mind, and as Bellamy was led to another examination room his vision began slipping between the med bay and a small, grayish room.

"I apologize for the wait, but we're very busy today." The man said with a rehearsed smile. He was a young guy, and he seemed a bit nervous. If Bellamy had to guess he probably was not an actual doctor yet. Some of the more privileged kids got to shadow professionals in their field of interest. Bellamy knew he was lucky, because kids like him did not usually end up on the guard, but he had always wondered what it would be like to have actual choices about your future. "If you'll take a seat I'll be with you in a moment." He continued, pulling Bellamy away from thoughts he usually did not allow himself to think about.

Most of the time Bellamy preferred being alone, but sitting there in silence was driving him up the wall. The girl had spoken to him, and he had replied, but now there was nothing. He felt like there was a hidden bomb somewhere in the room that could explode at any moment. Unfortunately, in this scenario, he was both the bomb and the victim.

Clarke laid back on the cot in her cell and waited for him to say something. She had no idea what was going on, why she was suddenly able to talk to this boy she had heard in her dreams so many times, but she was determined to figure it out. Of course, there were several ideas forming in her head but most of them had to do with the Ark's depleting resources. Perhaps the lack of clean oxygen was making her hallucinate or could the loss of her father be driving her to madness? Maybe she was not as strong as she thought she was. Clarke closed her eyes tightly and tried to keep things like that out of her head. Instead, she reopened her eyes and sunk into the familiar view from the boy's side of reality. Before everything happened, she had been training under her mother and another doctor, and she knew the examination rooms like the back of her hand. Seeing the rooms in all of their mediocre glory caused a feeling of comfort to wash over her. This was all she had left.

Bellamy heard her sigh, and he could not take it anymore.

"Can you just stop it?" He asked. The thought of talking to his delusions made his skin crawl, but it was better than sitting in silence, waiting.

"Excuse me?" Clarke asked, sitting up suddenly when she heard his voice.

"You need to get out of my head." He demanded. "You aren't real." Honestly, he did not have time to be going crazy, and this was getting to be a real pain in the ass.

"I am real." She sounded so offended that it almost made Bellamy laugh.

"Yeah, and I was born on Earth."

"No, I'm being serious. I am real." She insisted. "Wait is that why you're at the med bay? You think you're sick?"

Bellamy did not reply, but she took his silence as a confirmation.

"Well, buddy, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm completely real. I am Clarke, what is your name?" She asked eagerly. This dream boy had been nameless for so long, and Clarke was too curious for her own good. The idea that this could all turn out not to be real was long forgotten, but she was sitting in a prison cell. What did she have to lose from entertaining daydreams?

Bellamy's head began to sway from side to side when Clarke said she was a real person. "No you aren't!" Bellamy laughed. This was getting ridiculous. "You are a figment of my imagination gone wild, and once I'm finished here you'll be gone for good, and I can get back to living my life."

Clarke snorted, "If you think Harris is going to help you in any way, shape, or form then you're out of luck. He's a terrible doctor. I was better."

"Who the hell is Harris?" Bellamy grumbled, rubbing his face with his hands.

"The medical student you're patiently waiting for right now." Clarke explained. Suddenly an idea popped into her head. "You know, I can prove that I'm as real as you are. I was training to become a doctor before..."

"Before you were arrested." He said softly.

"Anyway, I've spent a lot of time in these exam rooms, have you?" Clarke asked, already knowing the answer.

"Uh, no." Bellamy replied as his brows furrowed.

"Then there's no way you or a figment of your imagination would know that we keep a flashlight and a bowl of sweets for little kids in the bottom left drawer of the desk over there. Bandages are in the drawer above it." Clarke said. "See for yourself. But hurry before Harris comes back."

Bellamy could not stop himself from getting up from his seat and stepping over to the desk. He knew it was crazy, but it could not hurt to look.

Bellamy was not sure what he was expecting, but when he opened the top drawer, he found the bandages. His hand hovered over the handle of the lower drawer for a moment before yanking it open. His mouth hung open when he found a flashlight and a bowl full of colorful candies. He had actually never seen sweets like this before.

"Kids really get candy from the doctor?" He asked in a slightly amazed voice that confused Clarke.

"Yeah, didn't you ever get candy from the doctor after getting a shot?" She asked.

Bellamy shook his head even though she was not there to see it. If she had been training to be a doctor, she was obviously from a well off family. She wouldn't understand that they don't waste luxuries on the poor kids. Or maybe she would.

"What did you say your name was again?" Bellamy asked as he closed the drawer and tried to wrap his head around the fact that he and this rich doctor girl were... Well, whatever they were.

"Clarke." She said with a small smile on her lips.

"I'm Bellamy."

"Hi, Bellamy."

"Hey."

* * *

 _So they have finally introduced themselves! Hopefully the next chapter will be better now that I've gotten this initial meeting out of the way._

 _Here's a few things I feel like I need to say: Since the last chapter I posted I've read all of the 100 books. They were pretty good, but very different than the show. I enjoyed them, and sometimes I find myself trying to incorporate novel things into my fic. That's probably why Bellamy talks about being poor so much, because in the books it was a big deal. There were three levels of the Ark: Phoenix, Arcadia, and Walden. Phoenix was like the upper class, and the others were lower. So yeah. :) Also I know that they probably would not have candies on the Ark, but I'm using creative license!_

 _Thank you so much for reading the story! I hope you're enjoying it, and I'd love to hear from you in the reviews. Until next time! xoxox_


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